


A Kissing Book

by agenderliam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Princess Bride Fusion, Chases, Escapes, Fencing, Fighting, Giants, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Miracles, Monsters, Pirate Liam, Prince Zayn, Revenge, Torture, True Love, see what i did there?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5797408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agenderliam/pseuds/agenderliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I fear I'll never see you again." He admitted as he held Liam as close to him as he possibly could. </p><p>“Of course you will.” Liam comforted his love. </p><p>“What if something happens to you?”</p><p>Liam pulled away from Zayn, cupping his cheek and looking at him plainly with a reassuring smile. "Hear this now, I will always come for you." He spoke with conviction. </p><p>"But how can you be sure?" Zayn was not feeling completely reassured. </p><p>"This is true love." Liam smiled, the mere thought of what he and Zayn had, and the goal he had set for their lives together as husbands, filling him with joy. "You think this happens every day?" </p><p>;;This was essentially just me writing ot5's names into The Princess Bride script.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kissing Book

**Author's Note:**

> a massive thank you needs to be sent out to sunny, because without them this story would not exist. they encouraged my wild ramblings when this idea first came to me and gave great advice whenever i got stuck. all in all they were the perfect beta and i love them.
> 
> there are depictions of violence including torture and two deaths as well as mention of suicide so if any of these are triggering for you please read carefully

Zayn lived on a small farm in the country of Florin. Resting in a valley surrounded by perfectly green hills. Miles in between the capital city and the shore. Zayn loved his family’s farm and he adored to ride his horse through the valley and the forests spread out over the rolling hills. 

There was a young man, around Zayn's age that worked on the farm. He had been working for the Maliks since he and Zayn were young boys. He and his family lived in a tenement house on the northern side of the farm. 

There was nothing Zayn enjoyed quite as much as he enjoyed tormenting this boy. 

His name was Liam, but Zayn never called him that. And he would always try to find Liam doing his chores so that he could add more to his list. 

“Farm Boy! Be sure to polish my saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.” Zayn would command.

“As you wish.” Liam would answer.

“Farm Boy! Clean out the shed, and sweep out all the dust once you do.”

“As you wish.”

Every time Zayn ordered Liam a new task, he would always give the same reply. 

And one day a great realization dawned on Zayn. 

“Farm Boy! Fill these with water.” He lugged two large buckets to set them in front of Liam, who looked at Zayn so eagerly that he was taken aback. “Please.” Zayn added before he could think.

“As you wish.” 

Zayn realized then that each time Liam had said ‘As you wish.’ he was saying 'I love you.'

Zayn was astonished by this epiphany. He viewed the farmhand in a whole new light. Each time he gave Liam an order and he got that same response a mysterious chill went down his spine. 

It wasn't until a few days later that Zayn knew the cause of it. 

He loved Liam back. It was a deep infatuation within Zayn that he was not aware could happen, especially at such a young age. He was excited by it and wanted to chase after it. But he was uncertain how to do so. 

Weeks after his seventeenth birthday, Zayn was working in the kitchen while his mother cared for his younger sisters and Liam entered, setting down a bag of supplies that had just been delivered. 

Liam was halfway turned around to leave when- 

"Farm Boy!" Zayn called without thinking, wishing he could have used Liam's name. Zayn's mind balked on what to say as his eyes met Liam's. "Fetch me that pitcher." He nodded up to the ceramic that always hung just an inch or two out of his reach. 

Liam glanced between Zayn and the pitcher; he stepped up to him and reached for it over Zayn's shoulder. Liam pulled the pitcher from the hook it was hanging from easily. He was slow and gentle as he placed it in Zayn's hands.

"As you wish."

It wasn't long until Zayn would search for Liam as he did his chores. Only now, instead of giving Liam superfluous chores, he would seek the farmhand out simply to talk to him. To get to know him. Zayn had grown up with Liam always nearby but he had never once truly spoken to the boy and the more he actually did the more he regretted waiting so long to do so. 

Liam amazed him. He had such an air about him that Zayn found himself longing just to be within arm’s reach of the other boy whether or not they were conversing. He was kind and honest and was always in such good humor it was infectious. 

Zayn's parents took notice of the effect Liam had and were happy to see their son so happy with a young man they trusted as they did Liam. Zayn blushed a deep pink stretching across his cheeks and reaching toward his ears each time his mother inquired about him and Liam spending so much time together. 

And after the first time the two boys kissed, Zayn's blushing only grew darker. 

It had been a hazy spring day. A heavy rainstorm had just passed through the valley the day before and clouds still lingered low and close to the earth. 

There was a chill to the air but it was still warm enough to not need extra layers. Zayn had invited Liam to join him and go horse riding. He had even packed a small picnic for the endeavor. 

Liam was plenty competent at horse riding but fell short of Zayn since the elder rode so much more often. 

Zayn led Liam, rather slowly for his taste but Liam was not as adept with the horse he was riding, to a small grove. They dismounted and set up their picnic. 

It had begun just like any other time they had spent together. They had started out sitting facing each other as they spoke about anything and everything. Liam had just finished telling a story about one of the new farmhands forgetting to shut the hatch for the chicken coop tight enough leading to Liam helping him chase down all the loose hens. Once Zayn finished chuckling at Liam's enthusiastic retelling he asked for the bowl of berries to be passed over to him. 

Liam gave an exaggerated smile and spoke in a cheesy voice, “As you wish.” before laughing at Zayn’s involuntary blush. 

Zayn smiled fondly before gently shoving Liam’s shoulder. “Ah, shut up!” He had jokingly reprimanded as he took the bowl from Liam’s hand. 

Zayn swallowed two blueberries before the bowl tumbled out of his hands as Liam surprised him, tackling him to the ground with a grin spread across his face. 

Zayn just giggled in response as he struggled against Liam’s grip. The two boys continued to rough house and rolled off of the blanket. 

Zayn managed to land himself on top of Liam but was quickly overturned. Liam pinned Zayn’s arms down neatly and leaned in close, about to say something but Zayn spoke first. 

“Come on then.” He taunted with a wicked grin despite the fact that he was the one trapped. “Come on.” 

He smiled before easily wrenching his neck upward and pressing his lips to Liam's. 

Liam kissed back eagerly and they were late getting back to the farm that night. 

After their first kiss the two boys were beyond inseparable. They knew that what they had was more than a simple romance between children. It was love and it was pure and true. 

Their relationship only grew as summer spread throughout the valley. And as Liam's seventeenth birthday came and went, they grew more and more certain that they wished to spend all of their lives together. 

They were both adults in the eyes of Florin's law and Liam had no hesitations when he decided to ask Zayn's parents for permission to marry their son. It helped that he had no anxieties over their answer. 

But Liam did not propose. He wanted to start his life with Zayn well off and he knew he could find his fortune across the sea. 

So he planned a voyage and explained his plans of travel to Zayn. 

Zayn understood but was overcome with worry for his beloved. When the day came for Liam to set sail, Zayn was slow to leave his side. 

"I fear I'll never see you again." He admitted as he held Liam as close to him as he possibly could. 

“Of course you will.” Liam comforted his love. 

“What if something happens to you?”

Liam pulled away from Zayn, cupping his cheek and looking at him plainly with a reassuring smile. "Hear this now, I will always come for you." He spoke with conviction. 

"But how can you be sure?" Zayn was not feeling completely reassured. 

"This is true love." Liam smiled, the mere thought of what he and Zayn had, and the goal he had set for their lives together as husbands, filling him with joy. "You think this happens every day?" He asked, knowing it would get a smile out of Zayn. And there was nothing more beautiful in the world to Liam than the image of Zayn smiling. 

Liam pulled Zayn in for a chaste kiss before the couple said their final farewell and Zayn wished Liam a safe journey as his worry still lingered in his heart. 

But Liam's journey was not safe. On the high seas, his ship was seized and boarded by the Dread Pirate Roberts. A man renowned for his cruelty and the carnage he brought on any who stood in his way. A pirate who took no prisoners and left no survivors. 

When Zayn heard the news, he locked himself in his room. He would not eat or drink and he swore to himself he would never love again. 

;;

Five years after what Zayn considered the end of his happiness, the country of Florin was approaching the five hundredth anniversary of its founding. And the prince of the nation, Prince Simon, chose himself a spouse. And since he could, he chose the most beautiful citizen he could find. 

Zayn was presented as a prince in the capital’s town square, dressed in clothes more expensive than his family's entire farm, and he felt nothing but dread despite the townspeople’s uproarious cheering.

As the prince's fiancé, Zayn was showered in adoration and luxury. But he cared for none of what he was given. Save for the mare Simon had given him as an engagement gift. 

She was a lovely animal with rich, velvety black fur. Riding each day was Zayn’s only solace. 

The palace grounds were extensive and even expanded to the sea shore, which is exactly where Zayn decided to venture today. He bucked his horse, urging her to go faster as he crossed the bridge sitting just within sight of the castle. He raced through the forest by the sea, tense as he fought to ignore memories of days he would spend riding on his family’s farm. 

The faint feeling of tears in his eyes faded as he noticed three figures waving him down. 

In the middle stood a stout old man who was flanked by two rather intimidating men. But the one Zayn noticed first was the giant. He towered over his two companions and while his limbs seemed thin and gangly, as Zayn approached he was assured that this man could easily overpower anyone in his path.

The other man flanking the old man, that seemed to be the leader of their group, was not much smaller than Zayn but standing so close to the giant made him appear as though even Zayn could pick him up with one hand. His eyes seemed cold staring at Zayn from above sharp cheekbones, thin scars sitting just below the prominent features, and a mouth set in a harsh line. His hands rested on the hilt of a sabre. 

Zayn did not care for swordplay but even he could see that this sword was of a higher caliber than even that of what Simon owned. 

“Excuse me, good sir; we are but humble circus performers. We seemed to have lost our troupe.” The old man in the middle explained. Zayn felt uncomfortable being spoken to as though he was a born royal. He knew he ought to get used to it. “Are there any villages nearby where we might find a hot meal and a place to stay?” 

Zayn shook his head. “I am sorry but I am afraid there is nothing nearby. This forest goes on for miles.” 

The man’s soft expression of curiosity with his raised eyebrows and barely open mouth shifted immediately to something harsh and sinister. He grinned and stared at Zayn as though the prince-to-be was prey in an inescapable trap. 

Zayn’s hands tightened of his horse’s reins so severely his knuckles turned white. His horse cantered a step or two backward but did not move like he wanted. 

“Excellent. Then no one will hear you scream.” The man stated in a chilled voice. 

Zayn pulled the reins desperately in order to dart away but before he could, the giant stepped up to him in no time at all and grabbed him by the shoulder. Zayn was overcome with fear and he tried to scream but his vision went black. 

;;

Louis knew Harry would be a good addition to the team once he saw him. Mostly because it meant Louis would no longer have to do any heavy lifting. Not that the skinny noble hoisted over Harry’s shoulder looked at all heavy. Regardless, Louis did not have to drag around the unconscious prince and for that he was grateful. 

“Where should I put him?" Harry asked in his slow, careful voice, looking at Walsh once he carried the prince onto the boat. 

Walsh looked up from his own task at hand and gave Harry a withering glare. “Put the prince on the starboard side of the ship.” Louis heard a tearing sound come from Walsh’s busy hands. 

“What is that you're ripping?” He speaks up from the dock. 

“It’s the crest off of a uniform of a soldier from Guilder.” Walsh stated matter-of-factly. 

“Who is Guilder?” Harry asked, standing up from gently placing Prince Zayn on the floor of the boat. 

Walsh exhaled loudly. “Guilder is the country across the sea. The sworn enemy of Florin!” Walsh rolled his eyes as he attached the crest to the reins of the prince's mare and sent the horse running back towards the castle. He made his way onto the boat and Louis followed closely behind him. “Once Prince Simon sees it he will suspect the Guilderians of kidnapping his love and once he finds his body dead on the Guilder frontier, his suspicions will be confirmed.”

Harry’s face dropped. “You never said anything about killing anyone.”

Walsh shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve hired you to help me start a war. A very complicated and prestigious line of work. Death will be a necessary result.”

“I still don't think it's right; killing an innocent boy.” 

Walsh turned to face Harry. The older man had a cruel sneer on his face and he approached Harry. “Have I gone mad?! Or did the word think just escape your lips?” He was standing directly in front of Harry and if one went only by their body language it would seem as though Walsh was the giant and Harry’s head barely reached _his_ shoulder. “I did not hire you for your brains you hippopotamic land mass!”

Louis wanted to punch Walsh in the jaw but he knew if he did both he and Harry would be out of a paycheck.

“I agree with Harry.” He stated simply, the blush that rose in Harry’s cheeks not going unnoticed as he jumped on to the ship to stand among the two other men. 

“Oh! The sod has spoken! I don’t give a rat’s ass what you agree with. What happens to the prince is none of your concern. I will kill him! And remember this, never forget this! When I found you, you were so slobbering drunk you couldn’t buy brandy!” 

Louis bit his tongue, trying to salvage his worn patience.

“And you!” Walsh continued as he turned to Harry once more. “Friendless. Brainless. Helpless. Hopeless! Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Unemployed in Cheshire?” The old man sneered.

Harry stared at Walsh with an expression that reminded Louis of a heartbroken child. And he could not stand it. As Walsh left Harry’s side, Louis moved to act as though he was going to help Harry with the rigging.

“That Walsh, he can fuss.” Louis said in a slow, gentle voice.

Harry immediately looked down to his feet, his brow furrowed as he thought. “Fuss… fuss… I think he likes to scream at us.” Harry smiled down at Louis.

“Probably means no harm.” 

“He’s really really short on... charm!” Harry was grinning now at his and Louis’ game.

“You have a great gift for rhyme!” Louis appraised. 

“Yes, yes, some of the time.” Harry mused as he began steering the boat into open waters, all the while smiling wide.

“Enough of that!” Walsh shouted out.

“Harry, are there rocks ahead?” 

“If there are, we’ll be dead!” Harry chuckled as he spoke.

“No more rhymes now, I mean it!” Walsh was beginning to turn red in the face.

“Anybody want a peanut?” 

;;

Zayn woke on a rocking ship in the middle of the small sea. He wanted to vomit, his head ached, and he was outnumbered. 

Though none of the kidnappers were looking at him. 

“Why do you keep doing that?” The old man shouted at the swordsman. 

“To make sure nobody's following us.” 

“I told you. No one in Guilder knows what we've done. And no one in Florin could have caught up to us so quickly.” 

“No matter how far you’ve think you’ve gotten, the prince will find you and have you all hanged.” Zayn spoke up with the last of his courage. 

The old man, Zayn thought he heard him called Walsh by his associates, turned to face Zayn. “Of all the necks on this boat, Highness, the one you should worry about is your own.” He said with a cruel voice. 

Zayn thought for sure that he was going to add on to it but Walsh glanced back at the swordsman and saw him glancing behind the boat once more.

“Louis, you clod, stop doing that!”

“Are you sure nobody could follow us?”

“I told you it would be totally and absolutely inconceivable… Out of curiosity why do you ask?”

Louis shrugged. “It’s just that this time I looked and something was there.” The swordsman, Louis apparently, said and while his voice was close to respectful his face betrayed his contempt. 

Walsh’s eyes widened and he hurried to the upper deck where Louis was standing. When he gazed through the fog and saw a small vessel headed in the same direction as his own. 

“It’s probably just some fisherman going for a pleasure cruise at night… in eel infested waters.” Walsh did not sound confident.

Suddenly a loud splash sounded from behind them. Walsh, Louis, and Harry, who had been turned toward his two associates out of curiosity over the boat behind them, all turned suddenly to see the kidnapped prince swimming steadily away from the ship. 

Walsh’s face was a bright red as he angrily screamed. “Well what are you waiting for? Go after him!” He looked to Louis.

“I don’t swim.” The swordsman explained with a calm shrug of his shoulders.

Walsh turned to Harry, raising his eyebrows expectantly. 

“I only dog paddle.” The giant said as his moved his hands in that exact motion.

Walsh let out a shrill before shouting at the two to begin steering the ship closer to Zayn. 

Zayn was a few yards off of the ship’s hull when and earsplitting noise caught him off guard. He stopped, treading water to decipher if he imagined it when it happened again, closer.

“Do you hear that, Highness?” He heard Walsh’s voice call out, closer than he expected. “Those are the Shrieking Eels. Don’t believe me? Just wait... They always grow louder when they are about to feed on human flesh!” Just as he said this Zayn felt the water around him move, just off his right side a creature swam past him. 

It was longer than Zayn was tall, as thick around as trunk of a young oak tree; it had slimy grey skin, and rows of sharp teeth. As it passed it let out a horrible screech and Zayn knew that Walsh was not lying.

“Swim back now and I promise no harm will befall you. I doubt you'll get such an offer from the eels.” Walsh grinned at him with cruelty in his eyes as an eel charged toward Zayn, the prince was overcome with fear. 

The eel was merely a foot from Zayn’s face when a large fist crashed down into the water on top of the eel. Another hand gripped the collar of Zayn’s shirt and he was hoisted out of the water and back onto the boat. 

Zayn immediately sunk down against the inner hull and Walsh came over to him, kneeling in front of him and yanking his wrists to tie a rope around them as tight as he could. 

“I suppose you think you’re brave.” Walsh’s quiet harshness nearly sent a shiver down Zayn’s spine but he blamed it on the chill of the night after diving into the icy lake.

“Only compared to some.” Zayn bit out, glaring at him.

The rest of the night, the voyage was spent in tense silence. 

;;

The sun had been up for an hour and a half. Louis had yet again glanced behind the boat to the other vessel, still following their path.

“Look! He is right on top of us!” He yelled angrily. 

“It hardly matters now. See! The Cliffs of Insanity!” Walsh pointed to the labyrinthian seaside cliffs reaching up to dizzying heights. Their boat entered the maze of stone taking abrupt turns without warning. “Only Harry is strong enough to steer this way. He’ll be sailing around for hours trying to find a harbor!” 

As Harry did just that, Louis grabbed Zayn by the arm just above his elbow and helped him stand. 

They all got off of the ship and Walsh was sliding a harness over Harry and Louis was putting Zayn into a strap. Once Zayn was secure against Harry’s side he looked up and instantly regretted it. There was a thick rope running up the cliff all the way to the top. Zayn felt sick to his stomach, he clenched his eyes shut and clutched himself as close to Harry as he could. 

The other two men climbed into straps of the harness and Harry began to climb the rope. Zayn refused to open his eyes but when they were what he assumed halfway up the cliffside Louis and Walsh began to speak to each other. 

“He’s sailed into the harbor. My god, he’s climbing! And he’s gaining on us...” Louis said in disbelief. Zayn was tempted to open his eyes to get a look this mystery man but he knew looking down would be beyond foolish.

“Inconceivable.” Walsh whispered. “Faster!” He snapped at Harry.  
Harry struggled to get out. “I… I thought I was going faster.”

“You were supposed to be this colossus. You were this great legendary thing, and yet he gains!” Walsh shrieked and Louis tensed with anger as Walsh’s outrage only made it harder for Harry to climb. 

“W-well he’s only got himself.” Harry began, his voice breathy and strained, sadness evident through his stress. “And… and I'm carrying three people.” As he said the last word, he was panting more than he was speaking. 

“I will not take excuses. I'm just going to have to find myself a new giant.” 

“Don't say that Walsh.” 

Harry continued and Zayn only clutched himself closer to the giant. 

Once they finally reached the top of the cliff, as soon as Harry planted his feet on the dusty ground Walsh was out of his strap on the harness and raced toward where the rope they used to climb up the cliff face was wrapped around a boulder many times over. 

Louis stepped out of his strap and started immediately getting Zayn out of the harness before pulling it off of Harry. But Zayn was not concerned with anything his kidnappers were doing. He fell to a large stone step right next to Harry with a short wall between himself and the terrifying drop off the cliffside. As he felt his lungs push air in and out violently in his effort to calm down, he realized that Walsh was distracted with whatever it was that he was doing, which sounded like the cutting of the rope, Zayn figured now would be a decent time to try and run. 

Except he had no idea where to go. There was a sea between himself and his home. Not to mention it would not take long for Walsh and his hired help to catch up to the prince. Zayn simply devoted his attention to catching his breath before sitting up in time to watch as the, now, severed rope slid off of the cliff and down toward the mysterious man who had been following them. 

Louis and Harry looked down as the rope fell, no doubt wanting to see the fate which awaited their follower. 

“He’s got very good arms.” Harry whispered to Louis.

Not hearing a crash, Walsh joined the two and look down to see the man dressed in all black clinging to the rocky mountainside and slowly making his move to climb upward.

“He didn’t fall?!” Walsh screeched. “Inconceivable!” 

Louis resisted rolling his eyes and simply stared at his boss. “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” He stated in the plainest voice he could manage, unable to leave the subject be. 

“Whoever he is, he has seen us with the prince and must therefore die.” Walsh ignored him completely. “We can solve this easily.” He began. 

“You,” He barked at Harry. “Carry him.” He commanded, motioning to Zayn. 

Walsh turned to Louis. “You will deal with him. If he falls, so be it. If not, the sword.”

“I am going to duel him left-handed.” Louis said to Walsh’s retreating back, causing the older man to turn around.

“You know what a rush we’re in!”

Louis shrugged. “If I use my right, it’ll be over too quickly.” Louis was feeling a little rusty anyway.

Walsh wanted to argue but saw how frivolous his effort would be. “Have it your way.” He grumbled before snapping at Harry once again to get a move on.

But before Harry went off with Walsh, he placed his monstrous hand gently on Louis’ shoulder. 

“Be careful.” He pleaded. “People in masks cannot be trusted.”

Louis nodded, hoping to ease Harry’s nerves.

As Harry followed with Zayn’s wrists in one of his hands, Louis drew his sabre. He practiced parrying and charging with his favored hand before switching and doing the same with his left. 

Louis was bored. 

He walked to the ledge and looked down at the man as he struggled to find a stable grip. 

“‘Ello there!” The swordsman called out and when he did not get a response he only continued. “Slow going?” 

The Man in Black sighed heavily “You know.. this isn't as easy as it looks.” He strained out. 

It didn't look easy at all to Louis. If anything that only amplified how difficult it was. 

“I don’t suppose you could speed things up?” 

“If you really want me up there you could lower a rope or a tree branch or something.” The Man in Black groaned out, testing out a higher place to place his foot to no avail. 

“I could do that, but I'm not sure if you will accept my help. Since I am only waiting here to kill you!” 

From what Louis can see of the man’s expression, it looks surprisingly calm. “That does put a damper on our relationship.” 

Louis decided then that he likes this fellow. Allegiances be damned. 

“You're just going to have to wait.” He called out from the cliff face. 

“I hate waiting.” Louis grumbled, pacing back and forth on the ledge. “I could give you my word as a Yorkie?”

“No good.” The Man in Black managed to heave himself up another foot, his voice strained and breathy. “I’ve known too many Yorkies.’ 

“Is there any way I could get you to trust me?”

 

“Nothing comes to mind.” 

Suddenly it hit Louis, he stepped up to the ledge and looked down at the Man in Black. “I swear on the soul of my mother, Johannah Tomlinson, you will reach the top alive.” 

Without hesitation, the Man in Black spoke. “Throw me the rope.”

So Louis unwound enough rope from the boulder to reach the man.

Once the Man in Black set foot on the solid ground he thanked Louis before he began to reach for his sabre, Louis noted that he actually was left handed. 

But Louis was in no rush, despite whatever Walsh wanted him to do. “No, no, we’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“Again, thank you.” He breathed out as sat down, immediately taking off his boot to shake out gravel and dirt. 

Louis tried to get a look at this man’s right hand, but he was moving too much. So Louis took it into his own hands. “I do not mean to pry… but you don’t happen to have six fingers on your right hand, do you?”

The man only stared at Louis. “Do you always start conversations this way?”

“My mother was slain by a six fingered man.” Louis spoke in a cold tone.

Instead of replying, the Man in Black simply lifted his gloved right hand, spreading out five fingers to be shown clearly.

Louis sighed, he did not have his hopes up but it is always a disappointment to know he is as far from finding his mother’s killer as ever. “She was a great sword maker, my mother.” Louis explained, reminiscing. “She worked so hard to gain people’s respect and before long she outranked any man who doubted her skill. One day, a man with six fingers came and made an order for a sword.” Louis drew the very sword from his scabbard and noticed with a smirk that the man before him tensed, ready for a fight, before Louis turned it to hold out for the man. “She slaved for a year before it was complete.”

The Man in Black reached for the ornate sabre hesitantly. It bewildered him how friendly and open Louis was being. As he held it he observed its intricate handle and tested its balance. 

“I have never seen its equal.” He stated, handing it back to Louis.

A soft smile full of pride and a bitterness that comes from losing a loved one graced Louis’ features. “When the Six Fingered Man returned, he demanded he have it. At one tenth of his promised price. My mother refused, she knew what her work was worth and never let someone talk her down from what she was due. The Six Fingered Man took the sword he had and slashed through her heart. So naturally I challenged him to a duel. I grabbed the sword my mother had made and got ready to face him. I was a cocky little bastard, had no idea what I was up against.” Louis chuckled at himself in a sad manner. “The Six Fingered Man let me live, but he gave me these.” Louis turned his left cheek to show the Man in Black the scar running under his cheekbone before turning his head to reveal the identical one on the right side of his face. 

“How old were you?” 

“I was eleven years old. From then on I have dedicated life to the art of fencing. So that one day, I will find the Six Fingered Man and I will say to him: Hello, my name is Louis Tomlinson. You killed my mother, prepare to die.” He explained in a tone that sounded dramatic, but he knew would be exactly what he needed to say when the day came.

“All this time, you’ve done nothing but study fencing?” 

Louis shrugged. “More of a pursuit than a study, lately. I mean, it's been seventeen years and still I have yet to find him. Needless to say, morale is low. I work for Walsh just to pay the bills.”

“Well, I do hope you find him.”

At this point, The Man in Black stood. 

“Are you ready then?” Louis asked as he repositioned his sabre in his left hand. 

The Man in Black drew his sword. “Whether I am or not, you've been more than fair.” 

“You seem a decent fellow, I hate to kill you.”

“You seem a decent fellow, I hate to die.” The Man in Black smirked. 

And so the two men stood ready to duel. Louis made the first move, his sword sweeping through the air. The Man in Black deflected his blow. 

They continued their duel, chatting casually throughout the whole thing. The commented on each other’s methods and approaches, all as if they were old friends catching up over a drink rather than total strangers fighting to the death. 

“You are wonderful.” Louis commented after leaping off of a large boulder after his opponent.

“Thank you. I’ve worked hard to become so.”

“I must admit, you are better than I am.” Louis added as they moved closer to the rock that anchored the rope the Man in Black had used to scale the cliff. 

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because I know something you don't know.” Louis smirked, deflecting a parry. 

“And what is that?” 

“ _I_ am not left-handed.” Louis tossed his sabre into the air, swiftly catching it with his right hand and returning to attempting to strike the Man in Black with full force. 

“You are amazing.” The Man in Black said with awe clear in his voice.

“Have to be after nearly twenty years.”

Louis pushed the man up a small stairs, once they reached the top, his blow was blocked but he continued to force the man against the short wall. The aged structure caused some to the stones to loosen and plummet down the cliffside. 

“There is something I ought to tell you, if we are sharing secrets, that is.” The Man in Black said with an air about him more fitting for a merchant in a business meeting rather than a man in sword fight close to falling from a perilous height.

“Tell me.” Louis urged.

“I’m not left-handed either.” The Man in Black switched hands and easily shoved Louis off of him, flourishing his sword once he did, and knocking Louis’ sword from his hands. 

Louis leapt from the landing, grabbing a beam between two pillars to aid him. He landed without grace and quickly retrieved his sabre.

The man tossed his sword so that it lands easily in a patch of grass. He followed Louis’ path and leapt to reach the same beam. Only he flipped around to beam once before releasing his grip and landing next to his waiting sabre. 

“Who are you?” Louis asked, desperate for an answer.

“No one of consequence.”

“I must know.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

At that, Louis shrugged and continued with his attack.

Only, the Man in Black was much more skilled than he was expecting. Louis was just barely able to block blow after blow, until he reacted too slowly and his sword was knocked loose from his hand.

Louis’ breathing began to pick up, it had been so long since anyone had bested him at a sword fight. He fell to his knees, refusing to look at the man. “Kill me quickly.”

“I would sooner destroy a stained-glass window than an artist such as yourself… However, I can’t have you following me.” The Man in Black hit Louis across the head with the hilt of his sabre, knocking Louis out-cold.

;;

Harry was starting to get worried that Louis had not caught up them yet. He was thrown from his thoughts as Walsh shouted angrily after looking back down the hill they had just reached the top of. 

“Inconceivable! Put him down!” He barked at Harry. “Give him to me. Catch up with us as quickly as you can!”

Harry set the prince on the ground. “What do I do?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, looking lost.

“Finish him! Just, finish him! _Your_ way!” Walsh shouted in a shrill voice, pulling on Prince Zayn’s bound wrists harshly. 

Harry smiled slowly. “Oh good, my way. Thank you, Walsh.” His smile dropped as his brow furrowed in confusion, placing his hands on his hips as he thought. “Which way’s my way?”

Walsh’s face turned bright red as his frustration grew. “Pick up one of those rocks.” He pointed to the many stones littering the meadow. “Hide behind the boulder. In a few minutes the Man in Black will come running into the meadow. Once his _head_ is in view. _Hit it with the rock!_ ” He dragged Zayn away from the meadow, before the giant could ask another question. 

“My way’s not very sportsmanlike.” Harry muttered to himself before choosing a rock and taking his place behind the boulder. 

It was not very long at all before the Man in Black approached the meadow. He slowed to a walk as he got closer. Harry decided then to throw the rock. He aimed just next to the Man in Black’s head, watching as he jumped in surprise once the rock broke on impact. The Man in Black drew his sword and Harry walked out from behind the boulder, holding another rock. 

“That was on purpose. I didn’t have to miss.” Harry stated simply, stepping closer toward his opponent.

“I believe you.” The Man in Black shifted nervously, adjusting his grip on his sword. “So, what now?”

“Now, we face each other as God intended: sportsmanlike. No tricks, no weapons. just skill against skill.”

“So… you put down your rock and I put down my sword and we’ll try and kill each other like civilized people?” The Man in Black’s eyes were wide behind his mask. 

Harry nodded, lifting the rock in a way like he was about to throw it. “I could kill you, now?”

“I do believe the odds are slightly in your favor when it comes to hand fighting.” He spoke slowly, setting his sabre down as he did. 

“It’s not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I don’t even exercise.” Harry smiled, tossing the stone behind him. 

The Man in Black charged at Harry, attempting to knock him down, to no avail. Harry made no attempt to push him off, just waiting for him to tire himself out. He charged again, but still Harry remained unmoved. 

“Are you just messing with me or what?” The Man in Black asked, frustrated.

Of course not. I want you to feel like you’re doing well. I hate for people to die embarrassed.” Harry said simply, throwing a fist at the man.

The Man in Black dodged the blow, sinking down to roll out of the way. He kept his stance low to the ground, ready to dodge any other incoming attacks. 

“You sure are quick.” Harry commented.

“Glad that I am, too.” 

“Why are you wearing that mask?” Harry asked as he attempted another avoided strike. “Were you burned by acid or something?” He tried to strike again.

“No, not at all. It’s just that they’re terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.” He ducked from Harry’s blow, circling around the giant and stepping onto a rock in order to jump onto Harry’s back. 

Harry tried to swat at the man on his back and even shake him off, but his grip remained firm.

“I just figured why you’re giving me so much trouble.” Harry stated, backing up so that the Man in Black was smashed up against the boulder. 

The Man in Black let out a deep groan. “Why is that, do you think?” He asked in a strained voice. 

Harry staggered forward. “It has been so long since I’ve fought just one person. Before I started working for Walsh… I would fight gangs, for local charities. That kind of thing…” He slammed the Man in Black back up against the rock. 

The Man in Black adjusted his grip, tightening his arms around Harry’s neck. “Why would that make any-” Harry pushed him back into the boulder, knocking the breath out of him. “difference.” The Man in Black managed weakly. 

Harry stepped away from the boulder, breathing heavily as he moved. “You tend to use… different moves against half and dozen people… than when you’re only… fighting… one.” Harry stumbled forward, dropping down onto one knee. His vision was going fuzzy and he took another stained breath before blacking out. 

;;

Walsh straightened his back as he heard footsteps approached his setup, he tightened his grip on the knife he had pressed to the prince’s neck. Waiting for either the Man in Black to approach or for Harry or Louis to catch up to assure that the Man in Black was dead.

The Man in Black followed the path left behind by Walsh, leading him to the criminal where he had set up a… picnic? Two ornate goblets of wine sat on a patch of cloth, neighbored by a platter of cheese and grapes. With the kidnapped prince, bound and blindfolded next to him.

“So…” Walsh began with an air of pretension, giving the Man in Black a sinister smile. “It seems to be down to you, and down to me.”

The Man in Black approached the two, hand resting close to the hilt of his sabre.

Walsh’s faux smile dropped, his eyes going icy. “If you wish him dead, by all means, keep moving forward.” He lifted the knife closer to Zayn’s neck.

The Man in Black froze instantly. He quickly shook himself. He smirked and raised his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to explain!” Walsh cut him off. “You are trying to kidnap what I have rightfully stolen!” 

The Man in Black risked a step closer, keeping his open hands visibly clear and away from his sword. “Surely we can make an arrangement?”

“There will be no arrangement. And you’re killing him.” He pressed the knife closer against the prince’s neck. Zayn stiffened, unaware of anything around him but the blindfold secured tightly against his eyes and the cold press of the knife’s blade on his jugular. 

The Man in Black’s smirk fell, his eyes lost any light as he stared at the criminal. There was a harshness added to his features. 

“Then we are at an impasse.” He stated, closing his hands into fists, pulling them behind his back.

“Very true, I’m afraid.” Walsh nodded. “I cannot compete with you physically and you are no match for me, mentally.” 

“So you’re smart?”

“Clearly I am smarter than you are. Otherwise, I’d be the one trying to kidnap the prince from _you_.” Walsh spat.

The Man in Black raised his eyebrows, giving off an impression that he was skeptical of Walsh’s claims. This clearly irked Walsh, his knuckles turning white around the knife handle.

“Let me put it this way: have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?” 

The Man in Black nodded, his expression remaining steely.

“Morons.” Walsh turned his nose up.

“Hm, in that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits.” The Man in Black crossed his arms over his chest.

“For the prince?” The Man in Black nodded in response. “To the _death_?” Another nod from the Man in Black. “I accept.” Walsh smirked, placing the knife back in its sheath.

“Pour the wine.” The Man in Black demanded quietly as he sat down across from Walsh. He revealed a small vial from his pocket, no bigger than his little finger. “Inhale this, but don’t touch.” He uncorked the vial and held it out for Walsh to take.

Walsh took the vial into his hands, bringing it close to his nose and wafting his hand above the vial. He scoffed as he hands it back to the Man in Black. “I smell nothing.”

“What you do not smell is called iocane powder. It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and sits among the more deadly poisons known to man.”

Walsh nodded.

The Man in Black balanced the vial of poison in his right hand along with a goblet and grabbed the other goblet in his left. He turned around so that his torso blocked both goblets from Walsh’s view. He ignored the man’s condescending chuckle as he hid what he was doing.

He turned around once he was finished he turned back to face Walsh and held the two goblets out, ready to set them out on the cloth, moving them back and forth before settling one in front of himself as well as Walsh. “Where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It will end once you decide and we both drink. To find out is right, and who is dead.”

Walsh laughed humorlessly. “But it is so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy’s? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you surely must have known I was not a great fool, you would’ve counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.”

“So, your decision in made?”

“Not remotely!” Walsh grinned pretentiously. “Because iocane comes from _Australia_ , as everyone knows, and Australia is entirely peopled with criminals. And criminals are used to having people not trusting them, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.” 

The Man in Black nodded, holding his hand under his chin, appearing inquisitive and impressed. “Truly, your intellect is dizzying.” 

“Just wait till I get going! .. Where was I?”

“Australia.” The Man in Black provided.”

‘Yes, Australia. You must have suspected I would have known the powder’s origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.”

The Man in Black narrowed his eyes. “You’re just stalling now.”

“You’d like to think that wouldn’t you?! You have beaten my giant, which means you are exceptionally strong, so you could’ve put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you have also bested my swordsman, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have out the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me,”

“You’re trying to trick me into giving something away.” The Man in Black deduced. “It won’t work.”

“It _has_ worked! You’ve given _everything_ away! I know where the poison is!” Walsh’s complexion had shifted to a dark red more and more each time he was interrupted.

“Then make your choice.” The Man in Black urged.

Walsh nodded. “I will, and I choose-” He stopped suddenly, his eyes widened and he pointed frantically behind the Man in Black. “What in the world could that be?!” 

“What?” The Man in Black turned around quickly. “Where?” 

Before he turned back to face Walsh, the older man grabbed both goblets, switching them. 

The Man in Black faced Walsh again, his eye flitting to Zayn and then back to the goblets and then to Walsh. “I don’t see anything.” 

“Oh, well I-I could have sworn I saw something. No Matter.” Walsh fought a smirk, desperately trying to subdue his expression.

“What’s so funny?”

Walsh waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll tell you in a minute. First, let’s drink. Me from my glass,” He said and raised his goblet into the air. “and you from yours.”

Both men take the goblets and lift them to their lips to drink.

Once the goblets were set back down onto the stone the Man in Black pointed at Walsh with a smirk on his face. “You guessed wrong.”

Walsh laughed. “You only think I guessed wrong! That’s what’s so funny! I switched the glasses when your back was turned! You fool!” Before Walsh could continue to boast, he fell over dead.

The Man in Black immediately stands and moves to kneel in front of Zayn and removed his blindfold. From behind his mask, the man searched the prince’s face. 

Zayn only stared at him. “Who are you?”

The Man in Black’s eyes hardened, his mouth settling in a firm line. “I am no one to be trifled with. That is all you need to know.” He said sharply as he untied Zayn’s wrists and ankles.

Zayn looked at Walsh lying dead on the ground and at the goblets. “And to think, all that time it was your cup that was poisoned.” 

The Man in Black looked back up at Zayn. “They were both poisoned. I spent the last few years building up immunity to iocane powder.” He explained before pulling Zayn to his feet and pulling him along as they run off.

;;

Nearly half an hour later the two stopped their running, the Man in Black let go of Zayn’s wrist, throwing him down onto a rock. “Catch your breath.”

Zayn sat on the cold stone, staring up at the man as he breathed deeply. “If you release me, whatever you ask for ransom, you’ll get it, I promise you.” He pleaded.

The Man in Black chuckled softly. “And what is that worth, the promise of a noble? You are very funny, Highness.

Zayn shook his head. “I was giving you a chance. It does not matter where you take me. There is no greater hunter than Prince Simon. There is nowhere you can hide where he will not find you.” 

The Man in Black crossed his arms, his eyes narrow and cynical. “You think your dearest love will save you?”

Zayn looked taken aback, his brow furrowed. “I never said he was my dearest love, and yes, he will save me. I have no doubt.” He raised his chin, defending himself.

The Man in Black step closer to the prince. “You admit to me that you do not love your fiancé.”

“He knows i do not love him.”

“Are not capable of love is what you mean.” The Man in Black snapped, his voice sharp as broken glass.

Zayn stood at that, squaring his shoulders as he invaded the Man in Black’s space. “I have loved more deeply than _killer_ like yourself could ever dream.” 

The Man in Black raised his hand, causing Zayn to flinch. “Now that was a warning, Highness.” He explained, waving his finger in the prince’s face. “The next time my hand flies on its own, where I come from, there are penalties for such lies.” He frowned as he grabbed Zayn’s arm to continue running through the countryside.

;;

The next time they stopped The Man in Black released Zayn’s wrist as they stood on a plain next to a grassy ravine.

“Rest, Highness”

Zayn sat on a stone, glaring daggers at the man. “I know who you are. Your cruelty reveals everything. You’re the Dread Pirate Roberts, admit it!” 

The Man in Black smirks from where he stood over the prince. He took an exaggerated bow. “With pride.” He straightened himself, crossing his arms over his chest. “What can I do for you?” 

“You can die slowly, cut into thousand pieces.”

The Pirate shook his head as he tsked. “Hardly complimentary, your Highness. Why loose your venom on me?” 

“You killed my love.” Zayn answered coldly, still glaring at the other man, keeping his face stoic before looking away. 

“It’s possible. I kill a lot of people. Who was this love of yours?” He walked away from the prince, sitting himself down on a fallen tree trunk across from him. He lounged, stretching his arms and placing them behind his head. “Another prince like this one, ugly, rich, and scabby?” He mused.

“No. A farm boy. Poor. Poor and perfect. With eyes like the earth after it rains.” Zayn defended, his voice getting far away. He shook himself slightly. “On the high seas, your ship attacked. And the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners.”

“I can’t afford to make exceptions. I mean once word leaks out that a pirate has gone soft, people begin to disobey you and then it’s nothing but work, work, work all the time!”

“You mock my pain!” Zayn accused.

“Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.” He paused, standing up before he continued. “I remember this farm boy of yours. This would be, what, five years ago? Does it bother you to hear?” 

Zayn lifted his chin, refusing to look at Roberts. “Nothing you can say will upset me.” His inflection like stone.

“He died well.” Roberts dove into his story. “That should please you. No bribe attempts or blubbering. He simply said, ‘Please… please I need to live.’” His tone was unreadable to Zayn, he did not sound like a heartless pirate. “It was the ‘please’ that caught my memory. I asked him what was so important for him here. ‘True love’, he replied. And then he spoke of a boy of surpassing beauty and faithfulness. I can only assume he meant you. You should bless me for destroying him before he found out what you really are.” 

Zayn stood at that, ignoring the dangerous drop in the pirate’s voice. “And what am I?” He met Roberts’ eye line as he awaited a reply.

“Faithfulness he talked of, Sir, your _enduring_ faithfulness. Now tell me truly, when you found out he was gone, did you get engaged to your prince at the same hour, or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?”

“You mocked me once. Never do it again! I _died_ that day!” Zayn clenched his hands into fists, his whole body shaking at the accusations made toward him. 

The Dread Pirate Roberts broke his gaze as his attention was stolen by the sounds of horses in the distance, but Zayn did not care. Zayn was seeing red. 

“You can die too for all I care!” He said as he shoved the other man with all of his strength, catching him off guard and causing him to stumble so that he began to tumble down the steep hill of the gully.

“As….. you…. wish!” Was heard as the man went rolling down the hill.

All of Zayn’s rage and anguish fell from his shoulders. Any facade that had been put up as the Dread Pirate Roberts became clear as a front. And everything he had felt for that kind and quiet farm boy five years ago came back to him. He watched in abject horror as the other man continued to fall down into the ravine.

“Oh my dear Liam, what have I done?” He whispered to himself.

Zayn rushed to follow Liam down the hillside, quickly losing his balance only to begin his own fall to the ravine floor.

;;

Zayn landed on his ass as he slid to the seam of the gully. His whole body ached but he could not find it in himself to care.

Before he knew it Liam was leaning over him. His mask had been lost as he fell down the hill. His same brown eyes just as Zayn remembered, soft and warm and full of love. It was so obviously Liam in front of him and yet the face in front of him was so different from his memory. 

The Liam he had lost had wild curls atop his head. He was made of soft edges. He had been small in stature, the strength he needed for his chores around the farm were lean and hidden away by too-big clothing. Zayn had been taller than him back then. 

But now the Liam he was seeing had shorn off most of his hair, it was short and styled, at least it had been until Zayn pushed him into the ravine. His jaw has a hard line and he had a beard adorning his face. His shoulders were so much broader and his bulky muscles clearly strained under the thin black fabric of his shirt and pants. 

Liam positioned his right arm to rest under Zayn’s head, giving him support. His left hand gently cupping Zayn’s cheek. “Can you move at all?” He asked and Zayn could have laughed at the question. Zayn could have laughed at the voice asking it. He could not believe Liam was truly lying next to him, speaking to him, concerned for his wellbeing.

“Move?” Zayn responded. “You’re alive! If you want I can fly.” He and Liam both moved to embrace the other. Zayn gripped Liam’s broad shoulders as tightly as he could manage, not even feeling the sore ache that had resulted from his fall. 

When Liam pulled away there was a gentle smile on his face, he rubbed his thumb back and forth across Zayn’s cheek, as though he was in as much shock as Zayn was over having his love in his arms once again. “I told you I would always come for you. Why didn’t you wait for me?” 

‘Well… you were dead.”

“Death cannot stop true love.” Liam declared. “All it can do is delay it for awhile.”

“Zayn chuckled breathlessly. Despite the time that had separated them and all the outer change, Liam was still that loving farmhand in every way that mattered to Zayn. “I will never doubt again.” 

“There will never be a need.” Liam whispered, leaning closer to Zayn. And the two kissed. Zayn never wanted it to end. He needed five years worth of the kisses that he had missed. 

But they had to end it. Liam stood and helped Zayn to his feet. They joined hands without a second thought and began their trek through the gully. 

The sound of horse’s hooves returned and Liam looked up to see how far off the royal search party was from the two to them. 

“Ha!” He stopped, pointing to where Simon was riding. “Your pig fiancé is too late. A few more steps and we’ll be safe in the fire swamp.” Liam continued along the path, easily guiding Zayn as he went. 

“We’ll never survive.” Zayn lamented.

“Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has.” Liam chirped optimistically.

;;

Zayn refused to let go of Liam’s hand as they ventured farther into the fire swamp. 

Liam looked around at all that was around him. “It’s not that bad.” He stated easily. 

Zayn stared at him, wildly confused when he realized that Liam was being serious. 

Liam looked back to find Zayn’s puzzled expression. “Well, I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely.” 

Zayn shook his head fondly. He was overwhelmed with the relief he was feeling at Liam being alive he was taken aback by the humor of his love, he had missed it so much. Zayn was probably smiling genuinely for first time in five years. 

As they walked a series of strange thumping sounds began to rumble through the ground. The couple looked around only to see nothing to be the source of the sound, they looked up at each other when fire burst through the ground next to Zayn. The prince screamed in shock and at the pain of his ornate clothes catching fire instantly. He fell down, totally frozen with fear.

Liam dived into action immediately, smothering the flames quickly and effectively. Once the flame was put out he turned his attention to Zayn, rubbing his thumb along his lover's cheekbone. “Well no, that was an adventure. Singed a bit, were you?” 

Zayn shakes his head, feeling foolish for his reaction. “You?” He asked, pulling Liam’s hands down to examine them. 

Liam shakes his head as he helped Zayn to his feet and they continued to walk through the swamp. 

The thumping sound occurred again and Liam was quick to lift Zayn and spinning in order to move him out of the way as another flame spurt burst through the ground where he had just been standing.

“Well, I will say one thing. The fire swamp certainly does keep you on your toes.” Liam stated and Zayn was once again amazed at how optimistic and positive he could be even as they were fleeing for their lives through the most dangerous place in the kingdom. 

Zayn simply smiled fondly to himself and took Liam’s hand in his own, hoping to enjoy the trek as much as he was.

They walked in comfortable silence until Liam spoke up. “This well all soon be but a happy memory.” He explained as he cut through any vines locking their path with his sabre. “Because Roberts’ ship Revenge is anchored at the far end. And I, as you know, am Roberts.” 

Zayn shook his head, clearly confused. “But how is that possible, since he’s been marauding twenty years and you only left me five years ago?”

“I myself am often surprised by life’s little quirks.” He stretched his arm out in front of Zayn, stopping him as another flame spurt appeared directly in front of him. “See, what I told you before about saying ‘please’ was true.” He began to explain as he continued to hack through the swamp’s many vines. “It intrigued Roberts, as did my description of your beauty. Finally, Roberts decided something. He said, ‘All right Liam, I’ve never had a valet, you can try it for tonight. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’ Three years he said that. ‘Good night Liam. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’ It was a fine time for me. I was learning to fence, fight, anything anyone would teach me. Roberts and I eventually became friends. And then it happened.”

Zayn had blushed at Liam’s admittance to describing his beauty, gasped that he had received death threats, and nodded approvingly at the obvious result of Liam working so hard to grow into who he had become. “What happened? Go on.” He urged.

“Well, Roberts had grown so rich, he wanted to retire. So he took me into his cabin, and told me his secret. ‘I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts’, he said. ‘My name is Ryan. I inherited the ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts, just as you will inherit it from me. The man I inherited it from was not the real Dread Pirate Roberts either. His name was Cummerbund. The real Dread Pirate Roberts has been retired for fifteen years and living like a king in Patagonia.’” Zayn reached to move a vine out of Liam's way since he had gotten so preoccupied regaling the story of what led to what they had gone through he nearly walked right into it. He smiled at Zayn as they continued past it. “Thank you. Then he explained that the name was the important thing for the necessary fear. You see, no one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Liam. So we sailed ashore, took on an entirely new crew, and he stayed aboard for a while as first mate, all the time calling me Roberts. Once the crew believed, he left the ship, and I have been Roberts ever since. Except now that we are together,”

Liam stopped and turned to Zayn. “I shall retire and hand the name over to someone else. Is everything clear to you?” 

Zayn nodded, his expression muddled with confusion from the complicated story and comfort from Liam’s assurance for their future together. He stepped to continue down the path but the moment his foot was set into a patch of sand Zayn was falling. His entire world went dark and his lungs felt tight. He could barely move from the pressure of the sand that had fallen on top of him. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t even know if he _could_ do anything. 

He had just about given up any hope, his panicked mind racing, he had no idea how long he had been trapped. 

Liam’s mind went blank as he watched Zayn slip into the pit. He acted on pure instinct, drawing his sword to cut a vine to act as his tether before he dove into the lightning sand. 

Zayn was unsure what was going on around him, there was a new pressure around his chest. Before Zayn knew it, he could breathe again. It was Liam’s arm pressing against his chest, wrapped around Zayn’s torso, pulling him up and out of the sand.

Zayn gasped for breath, able to do little else but pant as he pressed himself against Liam’s chest, clutching his shoulders. Zayn wanted nothing more but to cling to Liam. They were both covered in sand and in any other circumstance Zayn would complain or rush to get rid of the coarse feeling all over his skin. But all he could focus on was how warm and solid Liam felt around him. 

Liam held Zayn tightly, fearing that Zayn would slip away if he let go. He had waited five years to get Zayn back. He spent five years without the love of his life, working and planning and nearly dying more time than he could count. If tragedy were to strike Zayn when Liam was finally there and able to protect him, Liam knew he would knew be able to forgive himself. Any reason for him to live, to continue any sort of purpose would be lost with Zayn. 

“We’ll never succeed.” Zayn whimpered into Liam's’ chest. “We may as well die here.”

“No, no.” Liam whispered gently, helping Zayn to his feet, making sure to bring him far from the lightning sand. “We already have succeeded.” He assured, doing his best to be gentle as he rubbed sand off of Zayn’s face, hoping that removing any reminder of his fall would help calm him down. He grabbed Zayn’s hand, slowly leading him down the path, away from the sand pit. “I mean, what are the three terrors of the fire swamp? One, the flame spurt. No problem. There’s a popping sound preceding each, we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, but you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we avoid that too.” 

“Liam,” Zayn reached out for Liam’s upper arm, stopping him in his tracks. Liam turned around to face Zayn. “What about the R.O.U.S.s?” 

Liam raised his eyebrows calmly. “Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don’t think they exist.” 

Liam squeezed Zayn’s hand but before Zayn could reply in the positive or the negative, Liam was attacked by the largest rat Zayn had ever seen. 

Liam fell down, caught off guard by the rat his sword fell out of his hand. He struggled to try and pry the rat off of him but it bit his forearm, Liam let out a painful grunt before mustering his strength and punching the rat, getting it to release its bite. The R.O.U.S. scrambled onto its feet and charged toward Zayn.

Zayn had never fought a day in his life. He grew up on peaceful farm before he became a prince’s consort. His days as of late had consisted of roaming through throughout the castle behind fortified walls whenever he wasn’t riding his horse. He had never so much as touched sabre. “Liam!” He shouted for help as the R.O.U.S. bit at the loose fabric of his regal trousers. He grabbed a nearby branch and did his best to hit the R.O.U.S. but all he did was angered the beast. Zayn tried to take a step back and give himself more swinging room to hit the rat, he stepped on a large tree root and fell on his ass.

Liam grabbed the R.O.U.S. and ended up falling himself as the rat pounced. The R.O.U.S. bit his shoulder forcefully and Liam let out an anguished shout. As the struggled continued, Liam heard the telltale popping noises and quickly deduced where they were coming from. He began to roll with the R.O.U.S. until the flame spurt shot from the ground directly beneath the rat. The creature howled in pain, desperately trying to crawl away. Liam stood slowly and retrieved his sword, returning to the R.O.U.S. and stabbed it until it ceased its writhing. 

Liam sheathed his sword and returned to Zayn to help him onto his feet. Once he was standing Zayn did not hesitate to rejoin his hand with Liam’s. Liam squeezed Zayn’s hand twice and the two returned to the path out of the fire swamp.

;;

They had made it. Zayn gripped Liam’s hand just a little tighter as they entered a lightly wooded grove, finally out of the fire swamp.

“We did it.” He breathed out, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Now, was that so terrible?” Liam asked with a smirk and Zayn was reminded of the seventeen year old he knew back before his life had gone to hell and his days were full of the two of them teasing each other lovingly. 

Zayn rolled his eyes and smirked right back before he mirrored Liam leaning in for a kiss. 

Before they could kiss several men on horseback came charging into the grove. Liam immediately jumped into a defensive position, his left arm shot out in front of Zayn. ushering his beloved to stand behind him as he drew his sword with his right.

Prince Simon rode as the leader of the group. “Surrender!” He demanded.

“You mean you wish to surrender to me?” Liam asked, placing his left hand on his chest for a moment and raising his eyebrows. “Very well, I accept.”

“I give you full marks for bravery. Don’t make yourself a fool.” Simon bit out impatiently. 

“Ah! But how will you capture us?” Liam challenged. “We know the secrets of the fire swamp. We can live there quite happily for some time, so whenever you feel like dying, feel free to visit.”

“I tell you once again, surrender!” Simon raised his voice. Zayn looked between his fiancé and the love of his life. The two were solely focused on the other, each glaring daggers. 

But Zayn’s attention was drawn away from the two. There was movement behind far off trees that Zayn noticed in the corner of his eye. A castle guard appeared, holding crossbow pointed directly at Liam. Zayn looked in the opposite direction to see another castle guard standing armed behind a tree, pointing his weapon at Liam as well. 

Zayn’s eyes widened and panic surged through him.

“It will not happen!’ Liam opposed, too focused on blocking Zayn from Simon.

“For the last time, surrender!” 

“ _Death first!_ ” Liam shouted angrily.

“Will you promise not to hurt him?” Zayn spoke up over both of them. 

Prince Simon’s brow furrowed as he looked at Zayn. “What was that?” 

“What was that?” Liam echoed, turning to face Zayn.

Zayn swallowed nervously, maintaining eye contact with the prince. “If we surrender and I return with you, will you promise not to hurt this man?”

Simon straightened his back awkwardly. “May I live a thousand years and never hunt again.”

Zayn’s confidence boosted and his face grew stern. “He is a sailor on the pirate ship Revenge. Promise to return him to his ship.”

“I swear it will be done.” Simon declared before turning to his right-hand-man, Count Grimshaw to give him an order.

Zayn turned to Liam, the pirate cupped to prince-to-be’s cheek with his hand and Zayn brought his own hand up to cover Liam’s as he nuzzled into the warm touch. “I thought you were dead once and it almost destroyed me.”He began to explain his reasoning for bargaining with Simon. “I could not bear it if you died again, not when I could save you.” 

Liam’s eyes softened and he leaned in to give Zayn one last kiss but Simon lifted Zayn onto his horse and rode off. 

Liam was left standing in the grove, surrounded by the kingsguard and Count Grimshaw, all mounted on horseback. 

“Come, sir, we must get you to your ship.” Count Grimshaw spoke icily.

Liam stepped forward, looking straight at the count, refusing to be intimidated. “We are men of action. Lies do not become us.” He said before allowing his gaze to drift to where the count’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword. 

“Well spoken ,sir.” Grimshaw said in an unimpressed tone, halting as he noticed the pirate’s stare and knowing smirk. “What is it?” he demanded.

“You have six fingers on your right hand.” Liam stated, lifting his gaze back to the count’s irritated expression. “Someone was looking for you.” 

Count Grimshaw glared at Liam and did not hesitate to draw his sabre, using the hilt to knock him out cold.

;;

When Liam came to we was strapped to a wooden table in a cavernous room. He heard a door open and shut and someone descend a staircase. Before he knew it a sickeningly pale man was leaning over him with a bowl and a rag.

“Where am I?” He demanded. 

“The Pit of Despair.” The man began in a rough, daunting voice. “Don’t even think-” He retched, coughing loudly and clearing his throat. “Don’t even think about trying to escape.” His voice was suddenly even. “The chains are far too thick. And don’t dream of being rescued, either. The only way in is secret, and only the prince, the count, and I know how to get in and out.

“So I’m here till I die?” Liam asked in a bored voice. 

“Till they kill you, yeah.” The albino stated, moving to the other side of the table and dipping the rag in water before cleaning the wound on Liam’s shoulder.

“Then why bother curing me?” 

“The prince and the count always insist on everyone being healthy before they’re broken.”

“So it’s to be torture then?” Liam asked. The albino nodded and continued his work. “I can cope with torture.” He said but the albino shook his head with wide eyes. “Don’t believe me?” Liam raised an eyebrow.

“You survived the fire swamp, you must be very brave, but _nobody_ withstands The Machine.”

;;

That night Zayn woke up, sitting upright in his bed, and struggling to get air into his lungs. 

He had just dreamt of the King passing, moving Zayn’ and Simon’s wedding up to that night. Zayn had been presented to the common people just as he had been after his engagement to Simon. 

But unlike the engagement announcement, Zayn was not met with cheers, rather he was approached by an ancient woman. She booed and berated Zayn for abandoning true love. The more Zayn tried to defend himself, desperate to explain that Liam would have died if he didn't strike up a deal, the more accusations the woman piled on. The more insults she hurled. The more it dug into Zayn that he and Liam had been separated once again. 

Zayn scrambled out of his bed to search for a dressing gown. He raced out of his room and through the castle hallways toward Simon’s royal office.

He entered Simon’s office, ignoring the fact that the prince was in the middle of a conversation with Count Grimshaw. Both men stopped talking once Zayn fully entered the room, waiting for him to speak.

“It comes to this.” Zayn began confidently. “I love Liam. I always have. I know now I always will. If you tell me I must marry you in ten days, please believe I will be dead by morning.”

“I could never cause you grief. Consider our wedding off.” Simon stood from his desk and walked to Zayn, placing his hands of Zayn’s shoulders in what he must have assumed was comforting. Zayn wanted nothing more than to get away from his touch but resigned to it. 

Simon looked at Count Grimshaw. “You, uh, returned this Liam to his ship?”

“Yes.” Grimshaw nodded.

“Then we will simply alert him. Beloved, are you certain he still wants you?” Zayn fought to not cringe at Simon calling him ‘Beloved’. “After all, it was you who did the leaving in the fire swamp. Not to mention that, uh, pirates are not known to be men of their words.” 

“My Liam will always come for me.” 

Prince Simon balked. “Ah… I suggest a deal. You write four copies of a letter. I will send my four fastest ships, one in each direction. The Dread Pirate Roberts is always close to Florin this time of year. We’ll run up the white flag and deliver your message. If Liam wants you, bless you both. If not, please consider me as an alternative to suicide. Are we agreed?”

Zayn took a moment to think it over before nodding in acceptance of Simon’s plan.

;;

Liam was not sure how long he had been in the Pit of Despair. He spent hours thinking of Zayn, he had no certainty that Zayn was happy. But he did believe Zayn to be safe within the castle walls.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices coming through, muffled, two people talking outside of the Pit. Liam’s field of vision was extremely limited as he had been strapped to a table the whole time he had been held captive. Despite this, he had been meticulously focused on observing what he could in his peripheral and listening to the Albino’s movements. By his guess the entrance and exit to the Pit of Despair was at the top of a set of stairs in the corner of the Pit farthest from Liam. Which is exactly where he heard voices coming from.

“Your prince is really quite a winning creature.” He heard Count Grimshaw speak. Liam clenched his fists angrily at the way he heard the count speak in reference to Zayn. “A trifle simple, perhaps, but his appeal is undeniable.”

“Oh, I know, the people are quite taken with him. It’s odd, but when I hired Walsh to have him murdered after our engagement, I thought that was clever. But it’s going to be so much more moving when I strangle him on our wedding night. Once Guilder is blamed, the nation will be truly outraged. They’ll _demand_ we go to war.”

“Hmmm. Now where is that secret knot? It’s impossible to find.” Liam was lost for a moment at hearing this, until a creaking noise echoed through the Pit and Liam realized that the door was likely a hidden mechanism in some tree. “Aha! Are you coming down into the Pit? Liam’s got his strength back. I’m starting him on the Machine tonight.”

Simon sighed. “Nicholas, you know how much I love watching you work, but I’ve got my country’s 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, my husband to murder, and Guilder to frame for it. I’m swamped!”

“Get your rest.” Count Grimshaw replied. “If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.”

Liam then heard the door to the Pit close firmly and Count Grimshaw descend the stairs into the Pit. The count snapped for the Albino to move Liam.

Liam tensed as the cart he was strapped to began to move, being left next to a gargantuan contraption he was unable to recognize. The Albino began to hook Liam up to this Machine by placing over-sized suction cups on him. Two at the base of his stomach, two over his chest, and two framing his face.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Count Grimshaw stepped behind Liam, earlier the pirate has caught a glance of a large lever next to a scale from one to fifty where the count was now standing. “Took me half a lifetime to invent it. I’m sure you’ve discovered my deep and abiding interest in pain. At present, I’m writing the definitive work on the subject, so I want you to be totally honest with me how the Machine makes you feel. This being our first try, I’ll use the lowest setting.

Count Grimshaw lifted the lever from zero to one. Water began to flow and the Machine began to whir with power. 

Liam writhed at the sensation, fighting to not let out a scream. He tried to focus on thoughts of Zayn. Recall his memories with his beloved in order to ignore the agonizing pain. His plan did not work, the pain was too great and thinking of Zayn did not bring him the peace he was hoping for. Thinking of Zayn while he was in such anguish, and while he had lost Zayn once again only added to his pain.

Even when Grimshaw moved the dial back to zero, cutting off the Machine, Liam still writhed from an aftershock of what he had just gone through.

“As you know, the concept of the suction pump is centuries old.” The count stated blandly. “Really, that’s all this is except instead of sucking water, I’m sucking life. I’ve just sucked one year of your life away. I might one day go as high as five, but… I really don’t know what that would do to you, so let’s just start with what we have. What did this do to you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest. How do you feel?”

Liam was prepared to tell Grimshaw to fuck himself, to mock the count’s attempt at torture, but all the pirate could manage to get out was a whimper.

“Interesting.” Count Grimshaw nodded.

;;

Zayn stood outside of Simon’s office, not visible to those inside.

Prince Simon had called for Yellin, his highest ranking enforcer, to meet with him. 

Zayn was eavesdropping.

“As chief enforcer of all Florin, I trust you with this secret: killers from Guilder are infiltrating the Thieves’ Forest and plan to murder my husband-to-be on our wedding night.”

“My spy network has heard no such news.” Yellin sounded befuddled.

Zayn knew he should have been frightened by the news of plans of his assassination coming to light. He was, however, more put off by Simon referring to him as his ‘husband-to-be’.

Zayn was itching to approach Simon about the letters that had been sent out for Liam.

Zayn entered the office. “Any word from Liam?”

Both men stood at Zayn’s entrance. “Too soon, my angel. Patience.” Simon bided in an all too sweet voice. 

“He will come for me.” Zayn assured.

Simon smiled but it did not reach his eyes. “Of course.” 

Zayn nodded and left, choosing to stay and continue to listen in on the conversation. 

Simon was the first to speak after Zayn left. “He will not be murdered! On the day of the wedding, I want the Thieves’ Forest emptied, and every inhabitant arrested.” 

“Many of the thieves will resist. My regular enforcers will be inadequate.” Yellin explained nervously.

“ _Form a brute squad, then!_ i want the Thieves’ Forest emptied before I wed.

“It won’t be easy, sire.”

“Try ruling the world sometime.” Simon countered. Zayn felt like he was going to be sick.

;;

Harry did not enjoy working on the royal brute squad. But ever since Walsh had died he knew he would have to find a new job of some sort. And he was more than qualified to be on a brute squad. Harry still hated being thought of as a brute. Sure, he was a giant by all means, that did not mean he was brutish, though. Did it?

Harry had just apprehended a pair of thieves and delivered them to the prison cart, apologizing wholeheartedly as he did, when he overheard another member of the brute squad speaking with the chief enforcer.

“Is everybody out?” Yellin asked.

“Almost. There’s a Yorkie giving us some trouble.” The brute answered, grabbing Harry’s attention.

“Well you give him some trouble.” Yellin ordered coldly before instructing the driver to get a move on.

Harry followed the brute from a safe distance. 

Sitting on the ground in front of a disheveled shack, as Harry assumed, sat Louis. What Harry had not assumed was how Louis was drunk off of his ass. 

Louis nursed his bottle of whiskey before shouting. “I am waiting for you, Walsh. You told me to go back to the beginning. So I have! This is where I am, and this is where I will stay.” Louis took another sip from his bottle, letting out a string of curses before speaking again. “I will not be moved!”

The brute that Harry had followed approached Louis, armed with an axe. “Ho there!”

Louis spared the brute a disinterested glance. “I do not budge. Keep your fucking ‘Ho there’.” 

“The prince gave orders.” The brute approached Louis.

But even in his drunken state, Louis was still a master swordsman. He drew his sword and swung it at the brute, pushing him back. “So did Walsh!” Louis said as he moved to sit in a chair outside the hut’s front door. “When the job went wrong you went back to the beginning. Well, this is where we got the job, so this is the beginning. And i am staying till Walsh comes.”

The brute looked around and locked eyes with Harry. “You, brute, come here!” He commanded. 

Harry nodded and approached the two. 

Louis was still glaring at the brute a he slowly explained again. “I am waiting for Walsh.”

Harry suppressed a smile and lifted Louis to his feet. “You surely are a meanie.” Harry said fondly.

Louis looked down at the hand gripping the front of his shirt. With a frown on his face and with jerky movements he lifted his hand up to flatten Harry’s palm and compare them. At the notable difference in size, Louis managed to look up at Harry and a soft smile grew on the swordsman’s face. “Hello.” Harry grinned.

“It’s you.” Was all Louis could say.

“True.” Harry said, and noticed the brute charging the two to them, probably having realized that Harry had no plans of apprehending Louis, Harry threw a punch, easily knocking the man out. “You don’t look so good.” Harry turned his attention back to Louis.

Louis huffed indignantly, blowing air straight into Harry’s face. Harry cringed at the alcohol coating Louis’ breath so heavily. 

“You don’t smell so good either.”

“Perhaps no.” Louis conceded. “I feel fine.” 

“Yeah?” Harry decided to test this out after gently patting Louis on the back. He let go of his grip on his friend and watch Louis tumbled back onto the ground.

;;

Harry took Louis to a small secluded cabin just outside of the Thieves’ Forest to nurse him back to health. 

Harry had made a hearty soup and spoon-fed it to Louis as he explained all that the swordsmen had missed. He went over how Walsh was dead. He explained that the Six Fingered Man existed in the form of Count Grimshaw, Prince Simon’s most trusted advisor. At the shock of this news, along with Louis’ lingering hangover, Louis fainted, falling face first into the bowl of soup.

Harry sighed, knowing he would need something more powerful than a good meal to take care of Louis.

The giant filled two large buckets with water, one chilled the other heated. Harry took great care washing the soup broth off of Louis’ face before waking his friend up. 

Harry led a half-awake Louis to stand in front of the two buckets before dunking his head into each bucket in turn a few times over.

Once Louis regained himself, he pulled away from Harry, shaking his head profusely. “That’s enough! That’s enough! Where is this Grimshaw, now, so I may kill him?” Harry had to push back his thoughts about how small Louis looked. Louis always looked small to Harry, everyone did, but Louis looked especially small when his was soaking wet. 

“He’s with the prince, in the castle. But the castle gate is guarded by _thirty_ men.”

Louis kicked a chair in frustration before he turned back to face Harry. “How many could you handle?”

“I don’t think more than ten.”

Louis looked at his fingers, counting to double check. “Leaving twenty for me. At my best I could never defeat that many.” He sat at the table, glaring at it dejectedly. “I need Walsh to plan. I have no gift for strategy.” He bemoaned.

“But Walsh’s dead.” Harry sat next to him.

“No, not Walsh. I need the Man in Black.” Louis decided.

“What?!”

“Look,” Louis stood, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “he bested you with strength, your greatness.” Harry felt that he was blushing but he could not be sure. “He bested me with steel. He must have out-thought Walsh. And a man who can do that can plan my castle onslaught any day. Let’s go!”

Harry shook his head in confusion. “Where?”

“To find the Man in Black, obviously.” Louis stated simply as we headed for the door.

“But we don’t know where he is!” Harry protested weakly, standing to go after Louis.

“Don’t bother me with such trifles. After seventeen years, at last my mother’s soul will be at peace. There will be blood tonight!” Louis shouted before rushing out of the cabin.

;;

Zayn had made a habit of eavesdropping whenever someone was summoned to Simon’s office. 

Yellin had once again been called, he entered and kneeled before Prince Simon. 

“Rise and report.” The prince ordered.

“The Thieves’ Forest is emptied. Thirty men guard the castle gate.”

“Double it.” Simon replied instantly. “My prince must be safe.”

“The gate has but one key,” Yellin promised. “and I carry that.”

Zayn rolled his eyes and entered the study. 

Both men rose at his entrance. “Ahhh, my dulcet darling.” Simon approached Zayn, taking Zayn’s hands in his. “Tonight, we marry.” He looked at Yellin. “Tomorrow your men will escort us to Florin channel, where every ship in my armada waits to accompany us on our honeymoon.” Simon walked back to his desk, lifting his dagger and began to sharpen it on a small stone.

“Every ship but your four fastest, you mean.” Zayn cut in and when he did not get a reply, he added on. “Every ship but the four you sent.”

Simon balked before giving his answer. “Yes. Yes, of course. Naturally not those four.” He gave a trying smile. 

Zayn’s face fell. “You never sent the ships. Don’t bother lying. Liam will come for me anyway.”

Simon frowned, a sneer was more apt to describe his expression, Zayn thought. “You’re a silly boy.” Simon bit out. 

“Yes,” Zayn stepped closer to Simon’s desk. “I am a silly boy, for not having seen sooner that you are nothing but a coward with a heart full of fear.”

Simon’s expression was as cold as stone, he quickly sheathed his dagger in one swift, harsh motion. “I would not say such things if I were you.” He said through clenched teeth.

‘Why not? You can’t hurt me. Liam and I are joined by the bonds of love. And you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds. And you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords.” Zayn stepped close, moving around the desk to invade Simon’s personal space, glaring at him and refusing to break eye contact. “And when I say you are a coward, that is only because you are the slimiest weakling ever to crawl the earth.”

Simon dropped his dagger onto his desk, his brow furrowed in rage. “I would _not_ say such things if I were you!” He grabbed Zayn just above his elbow and dragged him to his chambers, locking him inside before racing down the hall.

;;

Liam was being strapped to the Machine for the third day in row. No matter what pain he knew he was about to endure, he felt numb. 

He was pulled from his thoughts as the door at the top of the stairs was ripped open and slammed shut. He heard footsteps racing down the stairs. Suddenly Prince Simon was standing over him. 

“You truly love each other, and you might have been truly happy. Not _one_ couple in the century has that chance, no matter what the storybooks say. So I think no man in a century will suffer as greatly as you will.” The prince spat out venomously. 

Simon moved to the lever controlling the Machine and lifted it to its highest setting.

Count Grimshaw stood from his desk in shock. “Not to Fifty!” He protested.

Liam remembered all the pain he had gone through before that moment. Every anguish, every horror, every awful experience he had endured. Overcoming sickness as a child, leaving Zayn, countless injuries from countless battles, believing that Zayn had fallen in love with someone else, learning what pain his ‘death’ had caused for his beloved, the treatment he had gotten from the Machine days prior. All of it came rushing back to him. He recalled all of it with clarity and it was nothing to what he felt when the Machine was pushed to it very limits. And all Liam could do in response was scream in his suffering.

;;

Louis was getting frustrated, to say the least. Granted, they had not been searching for the Man in Black for very long, but it still bothered him to feel as though he was as far from avenging his mother as ever.

Suddenly, the entire village market around him froze. A great sound echoed through the valley, Louis cringed at the initial shock before he realized what it was. He looked up at Harry to see that the giant was covering his ear with hands. 

Louis reached up frantically to pull Harry’s hands down. “Harry! Harry! Listen! Do you hear? That is the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart made that sound when Grimshaw slaughtered my mother. The Man in Black makes it now.”

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The Man in Black?”

“His true love is marrying another tonight, so who else has the cause for ultimate suffering?” As soon as Louis finished his explanation he darted away with Harry close behind him. Louis rushed to push through the crowds but people ignored him and refused to move on his behalf. He tried to be polite about it, but the longer it took the easier it was for him to turn to his companion. “Harry, please.”

Harry nodded before cupping his hands around his mouth. “Everybody MOVE!” His deep rumbling voice quickly got the crowd to part, allowing Louis to run through the market with ease once he thanked Harry.

The two followed the scream into the forest, by the time they had reached a large grove, the scream had been over for nearly ten minutes.

But Louis had not given up hope. They happened upon an albino man pushing a wheelbarrow, about the leave the grove. Louis signaled for Harry to be quiet.

Louis snuck up to the Albino. Louis got his attention by prodding his chest with the tip of his sabre. The Albino froze, fear clear in his eyes as he looked over the see Louis and Harry.

“Where is the Man in Black?” Louis asked menacingly. “You get there from this grove, yes?” When the Albino gave him no answer, Louis made a suggestion to his friend. “Harry, jog his memory.”

Harry nodded and raised his fist to hit the top of the Albino’s head. This, however, only resulted in the Albino falling unconscious. Harry frowned as he watched the man fall. “I’m sorry, Lou. I didn’t mean to jog him so hard… Lou?”

Harry turned to Louis, frustration easily shown on the swordsman’s face. “It’s not your fault, Harry.” He made sure to say before kicking the wheelbarrow as hard as he could. “I should have known this was a fool’s errand. With my luck, we’ll never find the Man in Black, let alone convince him to help us.” Louis griped before letting out a dramatic sigh and leaning against the nearest tree. As he did this, his elbow fell into a knot on the tree and a door swung open, much to his and Harry’s surprise. 

Harry grinned at his friend’s accidental finding of the entrance and quickly ushered him to step inside

Standing at the base of the stairs, Louis spotted him from across the room. He and Harry rushed over to the seemingly unconscious Man in Black. Harry approached him and lowered his head to the Man in Black’s chest. He heard no heartbeat. “He’s dead.” Harry informed Louis, gravely.

Louis was distraught, the hope he had finally regained went crashing back into the dirt. 

Harry watched as his friend paced back and forth across the cave floor for minutes until he stopped to look at Harry. “Well, the Tomlinsons have never taken defeat easily. Come along, Tomlinson. Bring the body.” He nodded and turned to the stairs.

“The body?” Harry asked, totally lost. 

“Have you any money?” Louis ignored Harry’s question, steamrolling through his ideas. 

“I have a little.” Harry answered easily, trusting Louis.

Louis spared a glance at the Man in Black’s lifeless body. “I just hope it’s enough to buy a miracle, that’s all.”

;;

Louis led Harry through the woods until they found a modest, thatched-roof hut. He began to knock on the front door in earnest.

“Go away!” A voice called from inside. 

Louis only continued to knock. 

A small wooden slat in the middle of the door was moved to reveal the face of a man with nearly white-blond hair. “What, what?” He asked angrily.

“Are you the Miracle Max who worked for the King all those years?” Louis asked. 

“Miracle Max was a fucking stage name. ‘M Niall. Plus the King’s stinking son fired me. And thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. While you’re at it, why don’t you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it? We’re closed!” With that he slams the small door. 

Louis only took this as an invitation to continue his knocking. 

The slat was opened again. “Beat it, or I’ll call the brute squad!” 

“I’m on the brute squad.” Harry shrugged.

Miracle Max… Niall looked at Harry for the first time, sizing him up. “You _are_ the brute squad.” 

“We need a miracle. It’s very important.” Louis pleaded, cutting into the exchange.

“Look, I’m retired. And besides, why would you want someone the King’s stinking son fired? I might kill whoever you wanted me to miracle.”

“He’s already dead.” Louis bartered.

“He is, huh? I’ll take a look. Bring him in”. Niall acquiesced. 

The slat on the door was shut again but immediately after, the door swung open. 

Louis motioned for Harry enter first, the giant having to duck to get himself and the Man in Black inside. Louis closed the door behind himself once he was inside, watching as Harry places the Man in Black on a table. Niall began his examination. Which started by simply lifting the Man in Black’s hand by the wrist and watching it drop once he let go. 

“I’ve seen worse.” He said before continuing to poke and prod the Man in Black’s body.

Louis stood by while Harry look around the hut curiously. Louis tried to calm himself the longer it took Niall to do anything. 

“Sir…” He whispered, failing to get Niall’s attention. “Sir?”

Niall looked up from the Man in Black, squinting. “Huh?”

“We’re in a terrible rush.” Louis said gravely.

“Don’t rush me, sonny.” Niall wagged his finger at the swordsman. “You rush a miracle, you get rotten miracles. You got money?” Niall smiled at the prospect of getting paid.

Louis nodded. “Sixty-five.”

Niall scoffed. “I never worked for so little. Except once, and that was a very noble cause.”

“This is noble sir. His wife is … crippled. The children are on the brink of starvation.”

“Are you a rotten liar!” Niall accused straight away.

Louis was desperate, he slammed his hands on the table, leaning into Niall’s space. “I need him to help avenge my mother, murdered these seventeen years.”

“Your first story was better.” Niall nodded before moving away from the table, looking around the room. “Where’s that bellows cram? He probably owes you money, huh? Well, I’ll ask him.” He explained, lifting the bellows from a pile of junk.

Louis stared at Niall like he was a madman. “He’s dead. He can’t talk.”

“Hoo hoo hoo!” Niall waved his hand around. “Look who knows so much! Well, it just so happens that your friend here is only _mostly_ dead. There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Please, open his mouth.” He motioned at Harry, who easily reached over to do so. Niall listed the bellows cram and placed the valve in the Man in Black’s mouth. Louis was still lost as to why when Niall began to blow air into the, mostly, dead man. “Now, mostly dead is slightly alive. Now, all dead…” He blew more air into the Man in Black. “with all dead, there’s usually only one thing that you can do?”

“What’s that?” Louis urged him to continue.

Niall blew more air into the Man in Black. “Go through his clothes and look for loose change.” Niall answered before laughing loudly at his own joke. He then removed the bellows from the Man in Black’s mouth and lean in close to his ear. “Hey! Hello in there! What’s so important? What you got here that’s worth living for?” He shouted and placed his hands on the Man in Black’s abdomen. 

“True… love…” The Man in Black barely breathed out.

“‘True love’, you heard him> You could not ask for a more noble cause than that!” Louis exclaimed, unable to stop himself from glancing at Harry before refocusing on Niall.

Niall looked panicked but regained his composure. “Laddy, true love is the greatest thing in the world, except for a nice MLT - mutton, lettuce, and tomato sandwich, when the mutton is nice and lean, and the tomato is ripe.” He licked his lips loudly. “They’re so perky. I love that - But that’s not what he said, he distinctly said ‘To blave’ and as we all know, to blave means to bluff, right? So you were probably playing cards, and he cheated-” 

Niall was cut off by a woman with hair just as distinctly white-blond storming into the room and pointing accusingly at Niall. “Liar! Liar! Li--ar!” She shouted as she advanced, invading Niall’s personal space.

“Get back, witch!” Niall warned, making a feeble attempt to push her shoulders.

“I’m not a witch, I’m your wife, but after what you just said, I’m not sure I want to be that anymore.” She declared.

“You never had it so good.” Niall bit back before trying to smile apologetically at Louis.

“True love, he said ‘true love’, Niall. My god!”

“Don’t say another word, Perrie.” Niall urged through clenched teeth.

Perrie rolled her eyes, turning to speak to Louis and Harry. “He’s afraid.” She explained. “Ever since Prince Simon fired him, his confidence is shattered.”

Niall let out a distressed noise. “Why’d you say that name? You promised me that you would never say that name!”

“What… Simon?” She tested out.

Niall groaned, throwing his hands in the air, walking away from his wife.

“Simon!” Perrie called out again, following Niall closely. “Simon! Simon! Simon! Simo-on! Simon!” She chanted, chasing Niall around the room.

“I’m not listening!” Niall protested.

“True love lies expiring, and you don’t have the decency to say why you won’t help!” Perrie chastised. 

Niall lifted his hands to cover his ears. “Nobody’s hearing nothing!”

Perrie walked around her husband to get in his face. “Simon! Simon!” 

Suddenly, an idea sparked inside of Louis. “This is Zayn’s true love. If you heal him, he will stop Prince Simon’s wedding!” He spoke loudly, nearly shouting over Niall and Perrie.

Niall caught on, waving his hands to quiet Perrie down. “Wait, wait. I make him better, Simon suffers?” He asked for confirmation.

“Humiliations galore.” Louis assured him, smirking.

Niall cheered, dancing around his home. He clapped and pointed at Louis. “ _That_ is a noble cause. Gimme the sixty-five. I’m on the job!”

An hour and a half later, Louis and Harry were leaving the couple with the Man in Black, a miracle pill, and instructions to wait fifteen minutes to administer it.

They waved goodbye, thanking Niall and Perrie for all that they did.

;;

Liam was dreaming. At least, that was what he thought seeing as he was hearing voices.

“How long do we have to wait, before we know the miracle works?” One man spoke with a deep, slow voice.

“You’re guess is as good as mine.” Another replied and a heavily accented, higher-pitched voice.

Liam pried his eyes open to see that the voices belonged to real men, not figments of his imagination. He was leaning against a wall, a battlement by his guess but his mind was fuzzy. He observed the two men. One was a giant, the other had a sword on his hip. 

“I’ll beat you each apart!” He warned. “I’ll take you both together!” Any other threat he could have spewed was cut off as the giant cupped a hand over his mouth. 

“I guess not very long.” The giant joked slowly to the swordsman. 

Liam tried to rip the giant’s hand from his face, but nothing happened. Luckily, the giant removed his hand on his own once it was clear Liam was done yelling.

Liam glared at the two men. “Why won’t my arms move?”

“You’ve been mostly dead all day.” The giant explained.

“Who are you? Are we enemies? Why am I on this wall? Where’s Zayn?” He demanded, losing his composure by the last question, his tone revealing how desperate he was to know where his beloved was.

“Well, I’m Harry. And this is Louis.” The giant said sweetly before the swordsman, Louis, held up his hand to indicate he would answer the rest of the questions. 

“Let me explain… No, there is too much. Let me sum up. Zayn marries Simon in a little less than half an hour, so all we have to do is get in, break up the wedding, steal the prince, make our escape. After I kill Count Grimshaw.” Louis sped through his synopsis.

Liam took in this information, tapping his thumb against his chest.” That doesn’t leave much time for dilly-dallying.

“You just wiggled your finger! That’s wonderful!” Harry pointed out, a grin on his face. 

“I’ve always been quick healer.” He explained to Harry and turned to ask Louis. “What are our liabilities?”

“There is but one working castle gate. And it is guarded by…” Louis risked a look over the battlement wall. “sixty men.”

“And our assets?” Liam pushed.

“Your brains, Harry’s strength, my steel.”

“That’s it?” Liam raised an eyebrow. “Impossible. If I had a month to plan, maybe I could come up with something, but this…” With a tremendous amount of effort Liam shook his head.

“You just shook your head!” Harry noticed. “That doesn’t make you happy?” 

Liam struggled but he turned his head to look at Harry. “My brains, his steel, and your strength, against sixty men, and you think a little head jiggle is supposed to make me happy? Hmm?” Harry only smiled hopefully in reply. “I mean if we had a wheelbarrow, that would be something.”

Louis perked up at that. “Where did we put that wheelbarrow the Albino had?” He asked Harry.

“Over the Albino, I think.”

Liam’s eye narrowed as his look to Louis. “Why didn’t you list that among our assets in the first place? What I wouldn’t give for a holocaust cloak.” He muttered to himself.

“There we cannot help you.” Louis shook his head.

Harry pulled something out of his loose, barely buttoned shirt. He held up a big piece of black cloth. “Would this do?”

Louis stared at his friend, bewildered. “Where did you get that?”

“At Miracle Max’s… It fit so nice, Niall said I could keep it.”

“All right, all right. Come on, help me up.” Louis and Harry nodded and lifted Liam to his feet. “Now I’ll need a sword eventually.” Liam pointed out.

“Why? You can’t even lift one.” Louis pointed out dryly.

“True, but that's hardly common knowledge, is it?” Liam countered just before his head lolled forward, his strength still not returned to him. Harry was quick to gently lift his head back upright. “Thank you. Now, there may be problems once we’re inside.”

Louis huffed. “I’ll say. How do I find the Count? Once I do, how do I find you again? Once I find you again, how do i escape?”

Harry, who was still supporting Liam’s head, turned it so that Liam was no longer looking at Louis but instead nestled against Harry’s arm. “Don’t pester him. He’s had a hard day.” Harry scolded Louis softly.

Louis nodded. “Right. Right. Sorry.” He apologized quickly before leading the other two down the battlement. 

“Louis?” Harry whispered.

“What?”

“I hope we win.”

;;

Zayn was fastening the cufflink on the sleeves of the regal wedding garment he had been gifted. It made him sick.

He was caught off guard when Simon appeared behind him, fastening a pendant with the royal crest around his neck. 

“You don’t seem excited, my little muffet.” Simon commented. 

Zayn ignored the belittling pet name. “Should I be?”

“Bridegrooms often are, I’m told. I am, after all.” Simon said in an attempt to get a reaction out of Zayn.

“I do not marry tonight.” Was what Zayn gave him as a reaction. “My Liam will save me.” He explained shortly. He then quickly made his way out of his chambers.

;;

The wedding had begun and Zayn was standing at the altar, enduring the clergyman drone on and on about the wonder and sanctity of marriage. His attention was stolen from the officiant as yelling echoed into the ceremony hall.

Zayn strained to hear the shouts.

“Stand your ground, men, stand your ground!” As Zayn looked around, he noticed audience members doing the same. And Simon hastily masking his worry with a stoic expression.

Zayn smirked.

;;

Harry did not love the plan. He knew it was necessary for Louis to avenge his mother and for Liam to find his true love. And Harry wanted nothing more than to help his friends in these important quests. But that did not mean that Harry had to love his role in the plan. 

Standing on the wheelbarrow, Harry towered over the outer castle wall even more than he usually would. He had donned the holocaust cloak, he knew how menacing he looked to the men guarding the castle gate, if their scrambling was anything to go by. 

“Stand your ground!” They had been ordered once more.

Harry was suddenly being pushed forward and he knew he had to start his act. 

“I am the Dread Pirate Roberts!” He rumbled out angrily. “There will be no survivors!” 

Louis continued pushing the wheelbarrow forward, Liam leaning against him. 

“Now?” Louis asked, strain clear in his voice as he held Harry and the wheelbarrow up.

“Not yet.” Liam whispered in reply. 

Harry continued with the script they had planned. “My men are here, I am here. But soon, you will not be here.” 

Harry had wanted his threat to be more poetic and clever, but Liam told him that an eloquent pirate was hardly intimidating. 

“Now?” Louis asked again.

“Light him.”

Louis settled the wheelbarrow down, picking up the candle that was sitting just behind Harry and used it to ignite the holocaust cloak. 

Harry raised his arms and watched at the sixty men guarding the castle quickly dwindled in number. 

“The Dread Pirate Roberts takes no survivors! All your worst nightmares are about the come true!”

;;

Zayn almost found himself smiling. The clergyman was still prattling on about true love when Simon order Count Grimshaw and the soldiers attending to leave.

;;

“The Dread Pirate Roberts is here for your soul!” Harry shouted as the last guard ran away.

The only one remaining was Yellin, Harry remembered him forming the brute squad. 

;;

“So treasure your love.” The clergyman continued slowly.

“Skip to the end.” Simon growled through clenched teeth.

“Have you the ring?” The officiant obliged.

Simon took Zayn’s left hand, ready to administer the wedding band on his ring finger. More commotion sounded from outside. 

“Here comes my Liam now.” Zayn muttered to Simon. 

The sound of the portcullis dropping was heard but it stopped suddenly.

“Your _Liam_ ” Simon spat the name like it burned him to say. “is dead. I killed him myself.”

“Then why is there fear behind your eyes?” Zayn challenged. 

;;

Harry held the portcullis up easily to allow Louis and Liam to approach Yellin.

“Give us the gate key.” Liam demanded.

“I have no gate key.” Yellin argued nervously.

Louis glance between Yellin and Harry. “Harry, tear his arms off.” He suggested.

“Oh, you mean this gate key.” Yellin immediately revealed the gate key from his vest, turning it over to Louis.

;;

The clergyman turned to Zayn. “And do you, Prince Zayn,-”

Simon cut him off angrily. “‘I bid thee wed’! Say _’I bid thee wed’_!”

“I bid thee wed.” The clergyman announced in almost a bored voice.

Simon smirked and handed Zayn off to his parents, the King and Queen. “Escort him to the honeymoon suite. I will be there shortly.” He commanded.

Zayn followed the King and Queen out of the ceremony hall. 

Zayn stared at the ground dejectedly, still in shock from the clergyman’s announcement. “He didn’t come…”

;;

Louis had handed Liam over to Harry to speed up their search through the castle. They reached an intersection, coming face to face with Count Grimshaw and a handful of guards.

“Kill the dark one and the giant, but leave the third for questioning.” Grimshaw ordered. 

The guards charged, headed straight for Liam and Harry. Louis stepped in, his sword drawn, easily stopping the guards. Once the guards were taken care of, Louis squared his shoulders and glared at Count Grimshaw. He took a step forward and inhaled deeply before speaking to the count. “Hello. My name is Louis Tomlinson. You killed my mother. Prepare to die.”

Grimshaw raised his own sword, but then he turned on his heel and darted down the hall. Louis immediately ran after him. 

Harry looked at Liam and Liam looked at Harry, neither sure what to do following that.

After a moment they heard a frantic Louis slamming himself against a door. “Harry! I need you!” 

Harry look conflicted, he gestured helplessly at Liam who was being supported by Harry. “I can’t leave him alone.”

“He’s getting away from me Harry! Please!” Louis cried, his voice growing desperate and his calls turning into incoherent sounds frustration. 

Harry hesitated, clearly wanting to help Louis but unsure what to do with Liam. He placed Liam, awkwardly, up against a suit of armor. He made his way down the hallway to where Louis was still trying to ram the door down. 

Harry quickly placed a hand on Louis’ shoulder to stop him. He threw a punch with his free hand, easily knocking the door off its hinges for Louis.

;;

Zayn felt empty as the King and Queen escorted through the castle halls to the honeymoon suite. 

He knew he heard the two discussing how the wedding seemed strange. But he couldn’t focus on them. All he could think of was the dagger he had hidden in the honeymoon suite, ready for him to use before Simon ever showed up. 

;;

Louis followed Grimshaw throughout the castle, he thought he had finally caught up when he turned a corner into a banquet hall. 

Grimshaw was standing, not running, amid the tables. Louis thought he had the bastard cornered for all of four seconds. Not a moment later Count Grimshaw threw a knife, hitting Louis in the lower stomach.

Louis gasped and fell against the wall behind him. Louis clenched his eyes shut in pain. “I’m sorry, mother. I tried. I tried.” He muttered to himself.

Count Grimshaw observed coldly. “You must be that little Yorkshire brat I taught a lesson to all those years ago. Simply incredible. Have you been chasing me your whole life, only to fail now? I think that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard. How marvelous.”

Louis tilted his head back against the wall, sliding down to sit on the ground. 

Count Grimshaw continued to look at him with cruel curiosity. 

Louis focused on the count’s words, refusing to let them be what defined him. With a great deal of concentration and remarkable pain shooting through his abdomen, Louis began to stand, struggling to do so, but standing nonetheless.

“Good heavens. Are you still trying to win?” Grimshaw teased a Louis got to his feet but staggered back into the wall, breathing heavily. “You’ve got an overdeveloped sense of vengeance. It’ going to get you into trouble someday.” Grimshaw said a hint of irony in his voice as he drew his sword to stab at Louis’ heart, assuring that Louis would never see the ‘someday’ that the count had alluded to.

But even in the state he was in, keeping this left hand tightly against the wound on his stomach as he moved, Louis was a master swordsman. He deflected Grimshaw’s blow, not entirely, however, as the sabre stabbed into his shoulder but Louis ignored the bit of the steel.”Hello. My name is Louis Tomlinson. You killed my mother. Prepare to die.” He spoke, walking toward the count and blocking blow after blow. 

Louis passed a table and leaned against it for a moment of support, still deflecting attacks. “Hello. My name is Louis Tomlinson. You killed my mother. Prepare to die.” Louis repeated, advancing once again, this time going to strike at Grimshaw instead of resorting to a defensive strategy. 

A hint a worry flashed in Count Grimshaw’s otherwise emotionless eyes as he stepped away from Louis’ attacks.

“ _Hello!_ My name is Louis Tomlinson. You killed my mother. Prepare to die.” Louis repeated viciously.

“Stop saying that!” Grimshaw hissed.

Louis took advantage at the count’s frustration to stab his shoulder, identical to the wound Louis had most recently received. “ _Hello! My name is Louis Tomlinson! You killed my mother! Prepare to die!_ ” Louis shouted, finding a new burst of strength and endurance, pushing Grimshaw closer toward the end of the room.

“No!” The count protested as Louis cornered him against the table just against the back wall, knocking Grimshaw’s sabre out of his hands..

“Offer me money.” Louis demanded, lifting his sword from its threatening resting place over Grimshaw’s heart to slash the man’s left cheek, just below his cheekbone.

“Yes!” Grimshaw desperately acquiesced. 

“Power, too. Promise me that!” He slashed the count’s right cheek.

“All that I have and more! Please!” The count begged, his voice still cold and low but there was a new desperation that gave Louis such a rich satisfaction.

“Offer me everything I ask for!” Louis ventured to demand so much, nearly smiling at the position he held the third most powerful man in Florin in at this moment.

“Anything you want.” Grimshaw bit out.

Louis dropped any hint of a smile, his eyes going dark. He ran his sword through Grimshaw’s stomach, the same spot the count had hit him with the knife. “I want my mother back, you son of a bitch.” He whispered in Grimshaw’s ear before twisting his sword and throwing the count’s body to the floor. 

;;

Zayn was finally alone inside the honeymoon suite. He quickly moved to the desk situated under the ornate window and pulled a small wooden box closer to himself. With a deep breath, he opened the box and removed the dagger inside, placing the tip to his chest.

He thought of Liam, longing to in any way he could be reunited with Liam. He inhaled once again, readying himself to plunge the dagger into his heart. 

“There’s a shortage of perfect eyes in this world. It would be a pity to take the light out of yours.” A voice spoke from the bed.

Zayn would have startled if he did not know that voice so well. “Liam!” He dropped the dagger and ran over the bed, quick to climb over him. “Oh, Liam, love!” He kissed all over Liam’s face and neck, cupping each side of Liam’s face as he did. “Liam, why won’t you hold me?”

“Gently.” Was Liam’s muttered response as Zayn continued to kiss him.

“At a time like this, that’s all you can think to say, ‘gently’?” Zayn was confused but he was not thrown from his task at hand of holding Liam close to him. He did move his hands though, to rest over Liam’s chest but as he let go of Liam’s head, the younger man quickly whisper-shouted in response. 

“Gently!” He managed to get out but his head slammed back into the headboard, groaning once he did.

Zayn frowned, quick to try and comfort his beloved. He finally kissed Liam fully on the lips, reveling in the sensation. Once he pulled away he rested his head on Liam’s chest. “Oh, Liam, will you ever forgive me?”

“Hm?” Liam mused, running his fingers through Zayn’s hair. “What hideous sin have you committed lately?” 

Zayn could tell Liam was attempting to be lighthearted, just he always was when they were young. But Zayn still had a burden on his heart. “I got married. I didn’t want to. It all happened so fast.”

“Never happened.” Liam replied quickly and calmly.

“What?” Zayn lifted his head from Liam’s chest.

“Never happened.” Liam repeated easily.

Zayn’s brow furrowed, utterly confused. “But it did. I was there, Liam. This old man said ‘I bid thee wed’.”

Liam looked at Zayn, a gentle look in his eyes. “Did you say ‘I do’?”

“Um, no. We sort of skipped that part.” 

“Then you’re not married. If you didn’t say it, you didn’t do it. Wouldn’t you agree, Your highness?”

Zayn sat up quickly, caught off guard by the presence of Prince Simon standing in the doorway.

“A technicality that will shortly be remedied.” Simon answered in a testy voice. “But first things first.” He drew his sword with a flourish. “To the death.”

“No!” Liam shouted, stopping Simon in his tracks. “To the pain.”

Simon paused, an uncomfortable look on his face. “i don’t think I’m familiar with that phrase.”

“I’ll explain. And I’ll use small words so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog-faced buffoon.” Liam said, refusing to hold back all the contempt he felt for the prince.

Simon closed his eyes as he processed Liam’s words. “That may be the first time in my life a man has dared insult me.”

“It won’t be the last. To the pain means the first thing you will lose will be your feet below the ankles. Then your hands at the wrist, next your nose.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “And then my tongue, I suppose. I killed you too quickly the last time, a mistake I don’t mean to duplicate tonight.” He moved to step toward the couple.

“I wasn’t finished.” Liam stopped him in his tracks. “The next thing you lose will be your left eye, followed by your right.”

“And then my ears, I understand, let’s get on with it.” Simon tightened his grip on his sabre, sneering at Liam.

“Wrong!” Liam shouted once again. “Your ears you keep, and I’ll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours t cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries ‘Dear God, what is that thing?’ will echo in your perfect ears. _That_ is what ‘to the pain’ means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever.”

Simon twitched uncomfortably. “I think you’re bluffing.”

Liam tilted his head only slightly. “It’s possible, pig. I might be bluffing. it’s conceivable, you miserable vomitous mass. I’m only lying here because I lack the strength to stand. Then again, perhaps I have the strength after all.” Slowly, but confidently, Liam lifted himself from the bed. He rose to his feet, lifting the sword he had stolen from a fallen guard. He held the sword level to Simon’s face. “Drop… your… sword.” He bit out sharply, smirking when Simon did exactly that. “Have a seat.” Liam ordered and Simon did.

Liam kept his sabre pointed menacingly at Simon as he turned to Zayn. “Tie him up. Make it as tight as you like.” 

Zayn smiled and grabbed the rope resting on the chest at the foot of the bed and doing exactly as Liam said.

Suddenly, Louis stumbled into the doorway, clutching his stomach. “Where’s Harry?” Are the first words out of his mouth after a quick scan of the room.”

“I thought he was with you.” Liam supplied as his answer. 

“No.” Louis shook his head, clearly concerned for the giant.

“In that case-” Liam tried to walk over to Louis but he faltered, falling back against the bedpost.

Louis entered the room, speaking to Zayn. “Help him.”

“Why does Liam need helping?” Zayn rushed to Liam’s side, helping him stand. 

“Because he has no strength.” Louis answered shortly.

Simon barked out a laugh from where he was bound. “I knew it! I knew you were bluffing! i knew he was…” His voice lost its confident push as Louis brandished his swords, holding it close to Simon’s throat. “bluffing.” He finished weakly.

“Shall I dispatch him for you?” Louis asked, pressing his sword closer to the prince’s neck.

Liam shook his head. “Thank you, but no. Whatever happens to us, I want him to live a long life with his cowardice.” 

The three set out to exit the room but they heard a familiar voice shouting outside.

“Louis! Louis! Where are you?” Harry was calling from the courtyard below. 

Louis walked over the window to open it, smiling once he saw Harry, unharmed. 

“Oh, there you are, Louis. I saw the prince’s stable, and there they were, four white horses.” Harry explained slowly, grinning as he did. “And I thought, there are four of us, if we ever find the prince. Hello, prince!” Harry waved happily as soon as he saw that Zayn was standing at the window with Louis and Liam. Zayn waved back, a smile on his lips. “So I took them with me, in case we ever bumped into each other. I guess we just did.” Harry finished his explanation. 

“Harry,” Louis spoke softly. “you did something right.”

Harry grinned, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “Don’t worry, I won’t let it go to my head.”

Zayn placed a kiss on Liam’s jaw before stepping up onto the ledge outside the window and leaping out, into Harry’s arms.

Liam looked to Louis, motioning for the swordsman to jump next. 

Louis hesitated, taking this moment to confide in Liam. “You know, it’s very strange. I have been in the revenge business so long, now that it’s over, I don’t know what to do with the rest of my life.” He admitted.

Liam placed a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Have you ever considered piracy? You’d make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts. In fact, I think you already have the first real member of your crew lined up.” Liam smirked before stepping in front of Louis and falling out of the window into Harry’s arms just as Zayn had.

Louis takes Liam’s words to heart before following suit.

The four of them each mounted a horse and rode away from the palace and into the countryside. They rode through the night. And as dawn came, Liam and Zayn knew they were safe. 

Harry and Louis rode ahead of the two. Liam and Zayn shared a look, realizing that they were back where they started years ago. In the countryside of Florin, riding horseback with no objective but to be with the other. Liam was quick to pull his horse up beside of Zayn, leaning in to express his love.

But before he spoke, Zayn mirrored Liam, leaning in to cup Liam’s jaw. “Come on.” He muttered as Liam smiled brightly, kissing Zayn firmly.

**Author's Note:**

> please comment!


End file.
